


Swimming Upstream

by Strung_Up (Laced_Up)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Fujisaki Chihiro is a Good Friend, Getting Together, Ogami Sakura is a Good Friend, Pining, Pre-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Swimming, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28470480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laced_Up/pseuds/Strung_Up
Summary: Asahina is struggling with emotions she has no way of knowing how to deal with. Unbeknownst to her, her friends have noticed her changes in behaviour and are determined to save her from herself.
Relationships: Asahina Aoi & Fujisaki Chihiro, Asahina Aoi & Ogami Sakura, Asahina Aoi/Ogami Sakura
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Swimming Upstream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monochromekiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monochromekiss/gifts).



> Hey, hey! New fandom, new ship, new me! (not really tho)
> 
> I've been anticipating my first foray into Dangan Ronpa for ages, so I was super excited to be able to write this for Pledge! Let me know what you think, 'cause I'd like to maybe write some more stories for this fandom. 
> 
> This fic is for monochromekiss for this year's Pledge, and I really hope you like it!

Asahina sucked in a desperate gulp of air, her heaving chest tight with pain. She was slumped half over the edge of the pool, her eyes blankly staring towards the back wall as her lungs frantically tried to regain control of her oxygen intake. Her weary arms wobbled as they tried to support her weight. As her exhausted muscles rebelled against her, she narrowly avoided faceplanting by using said arms as a makeshift pillow. She was used to the pain that followed an intense workout, but this was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Even in these last few weeks.

She had been collapsed by the edge of the pool for several minutes now, simply struggling to recapture her breath. That final lap had clearly been her body’s last straw. It was telling her that she was done for the day; perhaps even for the next few days. But she refused to let that be the case.

It was stupid and dangerous, she knew. Asahina may not have excelled academically, but if there was one subject that she knew better than most people in this school, it was sports science. Continuing in this state would be asking for trouble. She didn’t even have the strength to hold her body up whilst half-submerged in the water; swimming would only continue to wear her down, perhaps even lead to her passing out. And yet, she had to keep going. There was nothing else that she could do right now but swim. Swimming was all she had.

“Hina…”

Asahina started at the voice, dragging her head from her arms to glance upwards. She hadn’t expected anyone to walk in on her. It was very late for a gym session – in fact, she knew she was already pushing it in terms of their curfew. Most of the guys would train just before or after dinner, hence she’d figured she was safe. So, who…?

She met the hazel, doe-like eyes, brimming with concern as they took in her wrecked form and was simultaneously hit with realisation and guilt. No one with any degree of humanity could look upon that wide-eyed worry and not immediately feel horrible for having caused it. And really, she should’ve known. She watched the figure clutch their billowed skirt anxiously as they waited, anticipating some sort of explanation for Asahina’s current state. Which she couldn’t give.

Not only had she caused her friend – who was already a bundle of nerves in the first place – unnecessary stress with her unexplainable behaviour, she’d completely forgotten something important. The boy had told her that he would be here tonight. He’d been delighted by the news, almost in tears as he gushed to Asahina that he’d been successful in finally opening up to someone else. And she’d forgotten about it entirely, too focused on her own stupid problems to be supportive of a good friend’s triumph in fighting his demons. God, she was awful.

And now here he was, staring down at her with his endless concern for his friends’ wellbeing, likely no longer giving any thought to his own achievements. If he’d even considered them achievements in the first place. He was dressed head-to-toe in his usual attire, but clearly not with his normal meticulousness. It was obvious that he had been planning to head straight to his room after his first-ever training session and was likely very worn out himself. But, naturally, she’d just _had_ to unintentionally disrupt his plans.

She made a note to herself to ask about how it went tomorrow and be sure to include plentiful praise while she was at it.

“H-Hey Chihiro.” Was she really still out of breath?

Fujisaki frowned at her greeting, his face contorting adorably. _Wait, no, he wouldn’t like that. Contorting in a…manly kind of way. Does that even make sense? Can a face contorting_ be _manly?_

“…been here?”

_Ah, shoot._

“Sorry, what was that?” Asahina chuckled sheepishly.

“Just how out of it are you right now?” The concern on Fujisaki’s face seemed to have tripled in intensity by this point, “I asked how long you’ve been here.”

Asahina’s gut churned at his expression and she found herself growing desperate to placate the boy, “Uhh, you know, not long.”

Fujisaki raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her response and Asahina bit back a sigh. Lying was not her specialty. She uncrossed her arms and forced her palms into the ground, pushing herself up in an attempt to silently communicate that she was fine. Seeing Fujisaki’s lack of visible relief at the display, she wracked her brain for a way to convince him to stop worrying and head back to the dorms for some much-needed rest.

“Oi, kid. You comin’ or what?”

Once more, at another unexpected voice, her arms gave way. This time she was left without the luxury of her reflexes assisting her, instead planting face-first into the tiles below. She heard both a hearty guffaw and a soft gasp from above her, and she had no difficulties determining which reaction came from whom. Despite her company, she suddenly felt no desire to recover from the situation. She was happy to stay with her face pressed to the mottled, grey tiles for all of eternity, as far as she was concerned.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans. A gentle hand grasped one of her splayed out arms, tugging in a way that was entirely useless in terms of physically assisting her, but worked wonders for her motivation to get moving. Grunting, Asahina managed to get her exhausted arms back under her, seal crawling her way out of the pool. It was very tempting to let herself splat back down into the comforting embrace of the tiles once she had escaped the water, but her guilty conscience spurred her onwards. She tucked her legs underneath her and made to stand. They cried out in protest of her actions, and Asahina couldn’t force back her pained wince.

Once she was up, she turned to Fujisaki with a weak grin, “You know, you don’t have to be so cautious with me. Go on and manhandle me if you need to. I won’t break!”

Fujisaki, for his part, looked aghast at the very idea of ‘manhandling’ anyone. Which Asahina had honestly thought he might appreciate, considering the term contained the word ‘man’, but maybe that was outweighed by his dedication to pacifism. 

“What the fuck was that?” Asahina glanced to her right to see Oowada eyeing her strangely. He was leaning his weight onto one foot and had a towel casually flung over his shoulders as he scrutinised her. She had a feeling she should feel awkward under his gaze, but she was momentarily distracted by her happiness in seeing him there. If there was anyone who Fujisaki would benefit the most from the support of, it was definitely the biker, so the fact that he’d been understanding of his situation _and_ willing to help him on top of that was wonderful.

“Uhh,” Asahina snapped out of her thoughts, “I just…fell.”

Oowada snorted, “Yeah, no shit.”

“Are you okay?” Fujisaki piped up, his soft voice hesitant.

“I’m good. My arms just forgot how to work for a sec there!” Asahina tossed him a thumbs up, her grin stretched so far across her face that her facial muscles began to twitch. This only seemed to make Fujisaki more downcast, so she deemed the gesture a tremendous failure.

“Well,” The small boy started, “I just…if there’s something wrong…I mean, if you e-ever…want to talk or anything, I’m always happy to listen. I-if you want. N-not that you have to or anything…”

Asahina’s grin froze on her face. Fujisaki’s eyes had lowered self-consciously and Oowada was now scowling at her like she’d defaced his precious bike. She wasn’t scared of the guy – she was pretty tough herself – but even she could admit that his glares were probably the most intimidating she’d encountered. She scratched the base of her skull uncomfortably with a light laugh that was slightly too high-pitched.

“Sorry, Chi. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately. I promise I’ll talk to you about it, okay?” Asahina peered at the boy hopefully.

He seemed to perk up a little at this, his grasp on his skirt loosening as he met her eyes again, “Take all the time you need. Just don’t go wearing yourself out over it in the meantime.”

“No worries!” Asahina shot him her brightest and most convincing smile, waiting for the pair to turn around and retreat from the room. Unfortunately, she would not be so lucky.

“Oi, Hina. Go change.” Oowada’s gruff voice dashed her hopes. Fujisaki glanced at the biker in mild surprise, apparently also having not expected him to speak up. Asahina blinked at him in confusion, causing the towering figure to grunt in irritation, “ _Go change_. We’ll wait for you and walk back together.”

Asahina watched Fujisaki’s eyes widen in understanding as he inhaled sharply, turning to his companion with delighted gratitude painting his face. She huffed. Of course, Oowada would choose this one time to outwit her; what happened to the guy whose solution to everything was punching his problems?

“No,” Asahina lengthened the vowel with feigned nonchalance, “I couldn’t ask that of you. You must be tired after your workout.”

Fujisaki, who had finally started to look happier, immediately slumped, his eyebrows furrowed. _Gah._ _Damn you, Chi._ How they could both see through her so easily, she’d never know. Apparently, she’d become as transparent as Enoshima’s most recent favourite dress, since somehow _Oowada_ of all people was fully comprehending her intentions. Oh well, she could just swim more tomorrow. Maybe she’d get straight in after dinner; people didn’t tend to come to the pool on a Monday night.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t take that long.” Oowada responded simply. He flicked some of his damp, curled hair out of his face.

“Alright, alright. I’ll just be a min.” Asahina relented, taking quiet pleasure in the way Fujisaki’s face lit back up at her agreement.

Mere minutes later, Asahina found herself trailing behind as they made their way back to the dorms, Oowada ahead of her talking about something or other to do with a dog, with Fujisaki listening _far_ too intently. She tried to focus on their conversation, but it was quickly drowned out by the insistence of her own thoughts. Watching Fujisaki's slight form as he eagerly nodded along to whatever story was being told, she couldn't help but think about the person who rounded out their trio of friends.

Fujisaki had been hesitant to open up when they'd first met, for reasons that had become progressively clearer over time, but Asahina was nothing if not stubborn, and she'd practically forced the poor guy to interact with her. He’d been a tough nut to crack, guarded and hesitant to talk about himself, but she'd somehow known it’d be worth the effort. Which, of course, it was. The boy was maybe the most selfless and trustworthy person she'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, and she was incredibly self-satisfied about being one of the only people he'd be louder and more enthusiastic around. But she didn't think for a second that she would've been able to do it without the gentle touch of her best friend.

Fujisaki was the type to scare easily and had little idea of how to interact with more _exuberant_ characters. Although he would eventually admit that he loved being around extroverts, he also feared them lashing out at him. So, undiluted, Asahina was sure she would've been too much for the programmer. Which is why she was so lucky to have someone like Ogami around.

That was a thought she was having a lot lately. And that was where the problem came in.

Appreciation for one’s best friend isn't unusual, in fact, she was sure it was expected. But the sort of appreciation she felt for Ogami seemed too intense, too detailed and frequent, to the point of actively distracting her from class or conversations. Those thoughts had been getting increasingly overwhelming recently, and, to be honest, she was scared of them.

Ogami was the sort of person who unintentionally demanded respect - unlike Oowada, who quite literally demanded respect. She never expected people to admire her, she would _earn_ their admiration. Asahina was constantly in awe over her friend’s humility; the idea of being looked up to was something the fighter would brush off, which was an attitude she couldn’t comprehend having. There was something magnetic about her, something that drew Asahina in too close, but at the same time, she couldn't resist the pull.

Stumbling through her doorway after a compassionate goodnight from Fujisaki, Asahina flung herself into her bed. Letting her body sink into the mattress, she let out a sigh like she herself was an air mattress being deflated. Despite her complete and utter exhaustion, her night was a restless one, disturbed by endless doubts and fears. When she awoke the next morning, it was as if she'd only managed to sleep for the split second her eyes were closed during a blink – suddenly it was the beginning of the day, and yet her body still felt as if no sleep had been had. Pushing herself up from the bed proved a monumental task and she briefly considered taking a sick day. But she knew if she did, she'd just be stuck there, alone with her thoughts. And that was dangerous.

In class, she didn't fare much better than when waking up, a fog of thoughts cloaking her mind, none of them related to whichever subject they were in right now. Her foot kicked at her desk leg absently as her eyes glazed over. Frowning slightly, she contemplated how white hair could give the appearance of having a halo, and that perhaps it was not merely the _appearance_ of one, but the proof of a true angel walking among them.

“...na. Hina!” The all-too-noisy voice of their teacher disturbed her thoughts rather inconsiderately, “Could you answer this one for me?”

“Sakura!” Asahina's mouth decided to open before her brain could even process the question. But, unfortunately, it decided to start working in order to feel the humiliation of shouting her best friend’s name in place of a mathematical answer. Various snickers floated around the room, and she heard a distinct, derisive ‘tch' from a seat in front of her. She refused to lift her head to see her friend's reaction.

“Negative twelve.” A deep, calming voice spoke up, apparently to answer the question she'd originally been asked.

“...that is correct.”

“What?!” Asahina heard Kuwata squeak, although she still refused to raise her head, counting the dark stands that feel in front of her vision, “I didn't know we could use a lifeline for questions in class!”

A flood of relief washed through Asahina as she realised. Ogami thought she'd called her name because she didn't know the answer and was asking for help. That was slightly less embarrassing than the truth, so she could deal with that.

After class, she packed her things away at a pace even a sloth would raise an eyebrow at, watching from the corner of her eye as Kuwata struck out spectacularly with Maizono for the hundredth time that week. Maizono, for all her pretence of simple kindness, was a bit of an enigma. It was hard to tell what the idol was thinking, and Asahina found it a little off-putting. She had a theory that the singer secretly thrived on the attention she got from the boys in their class, subtly encouraging their advances and half-heartedly rejecting them, enough to convince the them that they might still have a chance. She’d had Kuwata and Naegi wrapped around her finger for some time now. And although Naegi appeared to be slowly drifting away, Kuwata was very much still attached. Asahina felt kind of sorry for him. She hoped, for his sake, that she at least liked him a bit.

Maizono flashed her a friendly smile on her way out, and Asahina returned it. She was thankful for the mental distraction she provided, if only for a minute. Pleased to see Ogami hadn't waited up for her (but also immensely disappointed), she stood. Kuwata matched pace with her as they left, perhaps craving the company, so they strolled towards the dining hall together.

He was the sort of person who wasn't really _close_ to anyone in the class, maybe putting them off with his attitude. Asahina hadn't really liked him that much. _I mean, why even attend the school as an Ultimate if you don't want to do the very thing they scouted you for?_ But Fujisaki had insisted he was a pretty nice guy, really, and she'd trusted Fujisaki's authority on the matter.

And she’d grown to agree. When he wasn't striving for all-new levels of try-hard, he was pretty cool to talk to.

“Tough break,” she spoke up.

She spotted Kuwata scowl, but it cleared up within a second and he sighed, “Yeah. I dunno what I'm doing.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Asahina snickered unapologetically, pretending not to see his offended expression. He narrowed his eyes – only half-serious.

“Oh yeah? Well, that's rough coming from you.” He raised an eyebrow challengingly. “As far as I'm concerned, you're way worse than me.”

Asahina froze in place, leaving Kuwata to walk a few steps further before realising she'd stopped. He turned to her; his expression mildly concerned.

“What do you mean by that?!” She choked out, horrified.

Kuwata scoffed, but it had no real malice behind it, “Come on, Hina. You're totally hopeless. At least I'm willing to give it a shot and not dancing around the situation entirely.”

Asahina gaped at him, “How?”

“Oh, jeez.” Kuwata groaned, running a hand through his gelled hair. “How could anyone not notice the way you look at her? You're not exactly _subtle_. About anything.”

Asahina could only feel her terror mounting as she spoke, his nonchalance about the matter making it so much worse. She began to walk once more, albeit far more reluctantly than before.

Kuwata, apparently severely misinterpreting her silence, spoke up anxiously, “But, like, you don't gotta worry, no one cares that you're into chicks or whatever.”

Asahina could only grunt in response, not in the mood to be thankful for his awkward attempt at comforting her. Kuwata, likely taking her huffy attitude as a warning, slowed to fall out of sync with her. She'd feel bad about that later.

Grumbling to herself, Asahina trudged into the dining hall with her aching shoulders slumped towards the floor. It was her every intention to ignore everyone and focus on finally getting some food into her. But, apparently, life had other plans.

“Oh dear, Asahina. Burnt yourself out already, huh? This doesn't bode well for your future endeavours.” The sarcastically concerned drawl was the last thing she had any interest in hearing, particularly accompanied by the frantic laughter of Fuwaka. She turned towards two of her least favourite sounds, her lips twisted into a pout.

“Shut up, Togami,” She snapped.

An offended shriek sounded from behind Togami, as Fuwaka – sitting alone at the table behind him – gaped at her in horror. “H-how dare y-y-you talk to him like that, you balloon-chested tramp!”

Togami scoffed condescendingly, “Be quiet, Touko. No one was speaking to you.”

Fuwaka froze, her face screwed into an unattractive expression. For a moment, Asahina thought she was finally seeing the light, had finally realised the toxicity of their relationship and how she'd be better off distancing herself. But that was only for a moment.

“T-t-touko?” Fuwaka's voice raised in her stuttered giddiness, and Asahina didn't bother hiding her irritated eye roll. Although, she was admittedly surprised by the first name basis too, once she thought about it. He must be planning something horrible that he needs her help with. It was almost pathetic how ridiculously easy it was for him to manipulate the girl.

Asahina watched the heir’s mouth form a disgusted sneer as Fuwaka latched onto his arm. Taking the opportunity to sneak away from Togami's disdain, she booked it to her usual lunch table, almost skidding past it in her haste. She caught herself at the last second by slamming her hands down on the wood. The immediate complaining of her arm muscles distracted her from the stares she was undoubtedly getting.

Lowering herself slowly into the nearest chair, her arms thanked her as her weight was no longer supported by them. Asahina hunched over, leaning her head against her now folded arms. The fatigue was hitting her now. But that certainly didn't mean she wouldn't be swimming again tonight; she needed to let off some steam.

“Oi, Fujisaki!” Asahina looked up at the yell to see Oowada lift his chin sharply, his narrowed eyes focused on the mousey boy who'd just entered the room. At the beckoning, the programmer’s eyes widened. Asahina watched as a flash of pure joy painted his face before he turned to her.

Realisation overtook his joyful expression, and she watched him bite down on his lower lip. Asahina had to have an entire internal debate with herself within the span of a few split seconds. Sure, she needed Fujisaki with her at lunch, to act as a buffer between her and the current source of all her problems. But at the same time, she knew how much Oowada's approval meant to him – and clearly, he had been even more accepted than either of them had anticipated. With that thought, she quickly waved her hands casually.

_Go ahead, I'm good._ She communicated silently. The relief and appreciation in the look Fujisaki shot her almost made her forget the agonising lunch to come. Almost.

She watched regretfully as Fujisaki happily trotted over to Oowada and Ishimaru's lunch table, which was already bustling with noise as the pair began to propose a competition of who could eat their lunch the fastest without throwing up. Asahina sighed. She closed her eyes and buried her head further into her arms.

“Why’s Fujisaki being called over to sit with two big, burly men? What a naughty little succubus. I’m, like, totally impressed.”

Asahina’s head whipped up at the comment. Before she got the chance to storm over there to defend her friend’s honour, however, she heard the dull thud of someone being hit upside the head and a monotone voice. “Shut up and eat.”

Asahina twisted in her seat to see the Enoshima pouting, levelling a childish scowl towards her sister. The other girl looked unfazed by her indignant expression, her cold eyes instead staring daggers into her ramen.

“My girl.” Asahina let out an undignified shriek at the new voice. Ogami gazed down at her, concern lining her scarred features, “My apologies for startling you.”

Asahina watched the large girl take a seat, her face now burning for multiple reasons. She cleared her throat as Ogami carefully laid out a balanced lunch, contained in numerous neatly-packed containers – for some reason, the words that had always come so easily between them were lost to her.

Asahina found herself enthralled as her friend tucked a white stand of hair delicately behind her ear. The gentle femininity found in someone so powerful was captivating to her, especially knowing that most people would not see that far past her physical appearance. The majority of people would assume her to be someone who struggles with tenderness, but they underestimated her. Ogami excelled at everything.

“Chihiro-san told me you were overexerting yourself last night.” Asahina physically flinched at the soft sadness in her tone and instinctively turned to glare at the mop of brown hair a few tables away. _Traitor._ This was going to be a problem. Ogami wasn’t as easy to placate as the programmer, since she knew that Asahina was fully aware of what she was doing when she pushed her body past its most extreme limits.

“I wasn’t,” She spoke through her teeth, laughing lightly, “You know how Chi gets. He's a total worrywart sometimes.”

“Hey, like, whatcha talking about?” An overpowering voice intruded on their conversation as Enoshima leaned over conspiratorially.

“Just swimming!” Asahina chirped, suddenly eager to get her fashion-minded classmate out of the conversation, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“Aww,” Enoshima sulked, but her bright eyes sparkled, “That's boring.”

“Oh well.” Asahina shrugged, pointedly waiting for Enoshima to retreat to her group. After a few seconds, a comment from Ludenberg about her latest lolita-style dress got the job done, and Enoshima was back minding someone else's business, her loud voice somehow fighting for dominance against every other voice in the dining hall.

“I don't believe Chihiro-san would mention it to me if it wasn't a cause for genuine concern. He is aware of his tendency for overthinking.” Ogami lifted a piece of grilled chicken to her mouth, and Asahina found her eyes shamelessly following the movement.

“Well, yeah, I was tired out after swimming. Chi saw me as I was about to finish up for the night, and I’d gone hard for the final lap.” Asahina examined Ogami's face for any reaction, but the girl gave nothing away, “So I was worn out. And tired. And that...was why.”

She trailed off helplessly under the intensity of Ogami's knowing eyes. The martial artist sighed almost imperceptibly but made no further move to speak. The silence was unbearable. Asahina shifted uncomfortably in her chair as it stretched on, her eyes flitting from her company to the table and back. Her friend continued to eat her meal calmly, her face unmarred by emotion, but Asahina could feel the disappointment radiating off her. After what may as well have been hours of this, she saw Fujisaki approach them.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.” Asahina almost wanted to laugh out loud at his comment, considering it was so apparent that he wasn’t interrupting anything but awkwardness, “Umm, I made you a tea, Sakura.”

Asahina then noticed the several mugs the boy was carrying, fairly impressed by the sheer number he’d managed to balance. It looked like a recipe for disaster, if she was being honest, with his tiny frame. But she was hesitant to tell him that. As he set a green tea down on the table, Ogami finally looked up from her meal, directing a grateful smile his way.

“I had forgotten about making tea. Thank you, Chihiro-san.”

Fujisaki flashed her a brilliant smile, and Asahina nearly missed the way his eyes darted quickly to where she was sitting before he left. Ogami took a dainty sip from her mug appreciatively, taking her time before lifting her gaze to meet Asahina’s.

“You know, he’s concerned for you. We both are.” She gently placed her tea back down, a dull clink sounding as it connected with the saucer beneath it, “We know it wasn’t only last night. If you are having difficulties, you need to find someone you are willing to talk to about them. Self-destruction is not going to change your problems.”

Asahina felt the same guilt wash over her as the previous night. She’d led both of her closest friends to believe that she didn’t trust them with her struggles, despite her trusting them more than anyone else. They were trying to help her without forcing the information out of her, and all she was doing was upsetting them. She’d had no idea that they knew.

“It’s…just swimming,” She murmured, weakly.

Ogami’s riveting eyes rendered her unable to think up anything further to say, the eggshell blue enchanting her into silence. The impressive woman propped her chin in the palm of her hand and scrutinised her.

“I know you know better than that.”

Asahina didn’t respond, ducking her head shamefully.

“What are you going to do if you cause yourself to get an irreversible injury? All that training will be for nothing.”

“I know…” Asahina mumbled, like a child being lectured. She ran her fingers through her ponytail anxiously, her eyes still lowered to the tabletop.

“You’re clearly stressed, my girl, but there are healthier ways to combat your thoughts than this.” A low scraping noise accompanied her calming voice, prompting Asahina to look up. Ogami had pushed the teacup across the table so that it was sitting in front of her, its green-tinged contents staring up at her. She could see the slightest trail of remnants up the side of the mug from where Ogami had taken her first sip.

She _knew_ she’d only been offered it because Ogami was a firm believer in the physical and mental benefits of green tea and had been hoping a sip might relax her. And yet, she could help but fixate on that trail, on the fact that her friend’s lips had recently been pressed against the china. She felt disgusting for even considering it - as if she was taking advantage of her friend’s kindness. But she knew she couldn’t help herself. As subtly and naturally as she could, she twisted the cup around as she lifted it, pressing her lips to roughly the same spot as Ogami had before her.

As the hot liquid washed down her throat, she peeked over to the fighter to see if she’d picked up on the movement. When she realised that her friend had been momentarily distracted by an argument that had bloomed between Togami, Kirigiri and Naegi (the latter not so much arguing and more ineptly trying to diffuse the other two), she couldn’t tell if she felt relief or disappointment.

With a sigh, she lowered the cup. These feelings were starting to get out of control. If she didn’t find some way of dealing with them, they were going to damage her dearest friendship, and that was something she didn’t think she could handle. Naturally, her friends had both been right. She shouldn’t have been using swimming as a means to run away from her emotions. They would always resurface anyways, and she’d just be left with an aching body _and_ heart.

She really was the ditz of the group, huh? Seems Togami was right about _some_ things.

Letting out another loud, involuntary sigh at the very thought, she closed her eyes. Well, according to Kuwata, everyone already knew anyway, right? She should just get it out there, so she won’t have to worry about it anymore. _Besides, if Sakura already knows, that means she isn’t weirded out enough to avoid me or anything. So, I should just…_

“My girl…”

“I’m really into you!”

Her voice echoed around the large room, and she couldn’t help but wonder why Enoshima’s voice had somehow managed to disappear for long enough to be useless in obscuring her yelp from everyone else. The chatter from almost every other table had immediately quietened. She could remember seeing scenes like this in sitcoms and nearly dying from the second-hand embarrassment, so how she was managing to stay upright and somewhat sane now that it was happening in real life was beyond her.

Asahina could feel Enoshima’s dastardly, blue eyes digging into her, likely delighted by such a social faux pas. The general area around them was apparently in some sort of shocked state since conversation refused to pick back up. It was suffocating. She was avoiding Ogami’s eyes as if the eye contact would cause her to spontaneously combust, but she also didn’t want to look at anyone else, so she was stuck, staring blankly at one of the crimson tiles that lined the dining hall floor.

Just as the silence extended to the point of being unbearable, Asahina was blessed with a gift from God that prevented her imminent mental breakdown. Hagakure burst into the dining hall like a tsunami of bad decisions. Either not noticing or not caring about the brutally awkward atmosphere, he strode into the room looking strangely determined. Being the only person making any significant noise at that point, he drew all eyes away from her.

He slammed a bag down on an empty table near the middle of the room and gave no further explanation, merely looking around with his eyes wide and glistening with excitement. Even his hair seemed to be crazier than usual. She didn’t know if he was waiting for some type of reaction or what, but she desperately prayed he was given one before everyone remembered her earlier outburst.

Luckily for her, Fujisaki, taking pity on him and perhaps also on her, spoke up, “What’s that, Hiro?”

And the match had been lit. Hagakure instantly launched into an epic tale about buying ‘the hottest chillies in any world’, from what Asahina had no doubt was a scammer. And not a good one, for that matter, if the whole _claiming to be a gypsy who travelled through worlds_ thing was anything to go by.

The legitimacy of the situation didn’t matter to Oowada, though. He immediately brushed off the outlandish story and instead formally declared a competition of willpower, shouldering Hagakure out of the way to claim the chillies for himself. In what seemed like mere seconds, half of the dining hall inhabitants were shovelling chillies into their mouths. Asahina could already see Naegi beginning to sweat bullets, looking like he severely regretting partaking, as Togami watched scornfully from his table. She internally praised her classmates’ short attention spans.

Looking away from what was quickly becoming a horrifying spectacle, Asahina found her eyes meeting the one person she'd finally managed to forget in her shame, if only for a few moments. Ogami was staring at her, caught in a rare moment of utter shock. Her pale eyes were wider than Asahina had ever seen them, her mouth hanging ever so slightly ajar as she appeared to be trying to comprehend the recent events. The swimmer couldn’t bring herself to speak, humiliation stealing her words as they formed, and so they sat there mutely as the ruckus continued around them.

Ogami shifted in her seat and her heart leapt into her throat. “Hina.”

Asahina felt like sinking into nothingness. This was it. The end of their friendship. She didn’t even have the energy to be angry at Kuwata for how unbelievably, unforgivably _wrong_ he had clearly been when he’d said everyone knew about her feelings.

“Is this what you’ve been worrying about?”

That hadn’t quite been the question she was expecting. In fact, she hadn’t expected a question at all, she’d been more prepared for some sort of verbal beratement about how disgusting she was. Which was obviously not something that Ogami would ever do, but her brain was one for overdramatising.

“…yeah,” She sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.

“I wish you had spoken to me.” Ogami’s forehead creased lightly, “I do not want you hurting yourself because you are afraid of talking to me.”

“It’s not that…I just…ugh…” Asahina trailed off, upset by her inability to say what she was feeling. Or understand what she was feeling.

“You…do not need to worry about that anymore.” At Ogami’s statement, Asahina blinked, perplexed. The martial artist’s cheekbones were tinged a soft pink, and she’d averted her eyes to gaze at their boisterous classmates.

Her heart attacked her ribcage as the true meaning of what her friend said slowly dawned on her. The timidity being displayed by the muscular girl didn’t help the almost painful pounding in her chest, as her foot began to tap restlessly against the floor. For the first time in their conversation, she longed to meet her friend’s eyes, desperate to see what they held in that moment.

“Hey, Ogami!” A sudden shout startled them both, and Asahina looked over to see Oowada standing, his eyes narrowed at them, “There’s no way you can fuckin’ eat more of these than me!”

Asahina frowned, trying to remember when the girl had claimed such a thing. As she pondered, she missed Ogami standing, and had to scramble to catch up with her as she made her way towards the designated ‘chilli table’. As the walked, she noticed Kuwata leering about something to Oowada, and realised he might’ve been the catalyst to this abrupt challenge from the biker. 

Something tickled the back of her hand, and she rubbed it against her shorts irritably. As she dropped it to hang by her side, she felt the prickling once more and her heart rate picked up, realising the possibility of the sensation being caused by a spider or another equally gross creature. Slowly lowering her eyes to peek at her hand, her breath caught in her throat as she felt fingers gently slip through her own, holding on loosely so as to give her a means of escape. She let out a slow breath. Trying to regulate her breathing and maintain her pace towards the rest of the class, she gradually tightened her grip, wrapping her fingers assuredly around the back of the hand holding hers.

Despite refusing to look at the girl beside her, lest her heart implode, she could sense the small smile adorning Ogami’s stunning face and the very thought made her happier than she’d ever thought she could be. As they reached the table, Fujisaki beamed brightly at them, gesturing at a plate piled high with red chilli peppers. He was blatantly overjoyed by the development between them but had the decency not to mention it until later. Others, it seemed, did not share that same graciousness.

“ _So_ …” Enoshima emphasised, a lazy smirk sprawled across her face, “Like, what’s going on with you two, huh?”

The girl flung herself across the table in a vaguely sexual pose in an effort to get closer to the pair, ignoring Oowada’s offended shout as she knocked into the prepared chilli plates. Watching Fujisaki assisting Oowada in salvaging the dishes, Asahina purposefully ignored the attention-craver, who was spread across the table like a buffet. 

“It’s not your concern, Enoshima-san,” Ogami stated diplomatically. Asahina bit her lip in consideration, before quietly slackening her grip on the fighter. She moved to join Fujisaki in restacking the plates but was held in place. Turning back, she met Ogami’s eyes and immediately lost all motivation to let go, in spite of the sneering blonde near them. Her best friend smiled reassuringly, squeezing her hand with the gentle strength Asahina had grown to know her for.

There was nothing to worry about anymore, she realised, as she tenderly squeezed back. Everything was going to alright now.


End file.
